


12 Days

by xiubaekist



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom!Baekhyun, But Enough Sex, Depression, M/M, Not a lot of Sex, Soft sex, emotionally damaged minseok, top!Minseok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-08 01:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15232545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiubaekist/pseuds/xiubaekist
Summary: Minseok can see the days counting down to when people die; so when he falls in love with a boy with the number 12 in his eyes, he's not so sure what to do.





	1. Prologue

                                                                                

 

The tiny swirls in his coffee make out a shape almost resembling a bleeding heart. There's a stain on the hardwood to the right of his right hand, currently occupied by tapping a rhythm only he knew on the surface. He had tried wiping off the stain a few times with the sleeve of his sweater, but to no avail. It was stuck there forever. A scar representing a sort of happening that left the table different from what it was before.

 

He gripped the dandelion in his left hand that rested on his lap. It was time for him to accept the story as it is and move on to the next chapter, no matter how badly he wants to skip back to the beginning of the novella and relive all the good times. He knows he can't relive those times, it will never feel the same to only turn the pages back. He'll never feel the new happiness again. It will only feel recycled.

 

He took a glance at the book sitting across from him. He knows what to do now.


	2. One

****It's the end of summer. The scorching heat is starting to calm down and little breezes occasionally blow weak leaves off their branches. A petite boy sits on a shaded bench, watching people go by living their day to day lives. He tries to divert his attention from each of their unique actions. Suddenly a man not too much younger than him, if younger at all, stumbles past and drops his exam books on the warm concrete. He stares at him with concern. He knows who that is. Byun Baekhyun. A college student who stops by the coffee shop every morning. He mumbles "Have a good day, Minseok." as he runs away. His heart nearly skips a beat. He can't see anything in his eyes.

There's always been something about Baekhyun that was odd. The glint in his eyes was idiosyncratic. Dull, distracted. It was something that made it so Minseok couldn't see. And when Minseok couldn't see, there was this panic in his chest. It sunk, and it sunk because it only happened on such rare occasion. It only happened when the numbers were being hidden.

People are binary—literally. They consist of numbers and emotions. The numbers tell everything, while the emotions try to hide them. Minseok is the only person who can see both. However, it takes a skill—one usually learned—to hide away the ticking clock inside the irises of other people around him. Minseok can't wrap his head around how Baekhyun is hiding his.

 

The alarm on his phone goes off and he gathers the books laying beside him. It's time for his afternoon class, and he's never one to be late. As he stands, he presses everything to his chest and walks with his eyes to the ground.

Living with the ability to see when people die is traumatizing. It's heart wrenching and stomach-turning. When he looks into the eyes of a person, he doesn't just see the numbers; he sees a child, a sibling, a lover, a student, a _human. A human who sometimes doesn't deserve to die when they do._

It's difficult to wake up every morning with the possibility to see a child on the subway with 200 in their eyes. It's difficult to look at his mother and see the ticking time bomb that is the end of someone who loves him so much.

 

It's just difficult.

 

He swings around the corner and spots the room his lecture is in today. He walks faster—the sooner he can get in and sit down, the better.

As his body twists to enter the room, he's stopped by a figure standing in his way. Byun Baekhyun.

"Ah," Minseok begins. "Baekhyun?"

The younger man jolts, stepping out of the way. "Oh," he says, "Minseok. I'm here to get my thesis back. This is your class?"

He nods, glancing up at Baekhyun's eyes for a split second only. "Yeah. My lecture is here. Are you in this class, too?"

"Mm." Baekhyun's nonlexical sound was a sign of agreement. "However, I come here at a different time."

 

Minseok slowly nodded, thinking. He only saw Baekhyun in the halls, around campus and at the coffee shop in the early mornings. They shared no classes, and they barely spoke. Yet somehow Minseok could never stop thinking about his timid appearance and shy demeanor. He never looked anyone in the eyes, he was quiet and he was just _unique_.

 

Before Minseok could say another word, Baekhyun slithered his slim body around him and out the door. By the time Minseok turned on his heels to check the hallway, he was gone.

 

He carefully let out a sigh. Checking again, Baekhyun still had nothing in his eyes. It scared him.

Going forth and sitting in his usual spot, Minseok placed all his belongings down before pulling out his phone. He set an alarm for tomorrow morning to go to the coffee shop, even though he didn't work. He was going to get to know Byun Baekhyun, and the reason his numbers were blurred.


	3. Two

_Every number has a face. There’s a purpose._

 

It’s 8:13 AM. The smell of rain tangled through Minseok’s curtains that cascaded over an open window. He’s laying in bed, sheets intertwined between both of his legs. The alarm he set was for 9:45 AM, yet the tossing and turning in his sleep woke him up prematurely. The coffee shop opens at ten and the only thing Minseok can see when he closes his eyes is the lack of numbers in Baekhyun’s. He’s having a hard time processing.

He flips his body up and out of bed, his feet patter on the floor as he goes to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face usually helped with this kind of anxiety. He knew he couldn’t approach Baekhyun with the current state he’s in.

 Slowly, gently, Minseok’s fingers grip the valve and pull it towards him. The water begins to flow, the sound of it hitting the ceramic bowl was the only thing echoing throughout his apartment. He placed both of his hands, cupped together, under the stream and collected a handful of what felt like ice cold liquid.

 There was no hesitation in jerking his hands up to his face, splashing the water over his skin as he let out a sigh. There were so many things running through his mind that he couldn’t address. Byun Baekhyun, of all people, was the one that came across without those ticking timebombs in his irises. He was the one that could look Minseok directly into the eyes and show him absolutely nothing.

 By the time he grabs the hand towel to his right and smacks it against his face, he's already glanced at the clock four times. Counting down. Diligently.

 

It's now 8:27 AM. Minseok swings his body around the corner and into his kitchenette. His hands instinctively reach out to his Keurig coffee machine, popping open the top to put in a Starbucks Mocha Macchiato cup. He closes it, following the motion with a swift press of the button on top. Mug in hand, he lets out a sigh, glancing at the clock once more.

 The more he stands around his apartment, thinking, waiting; Minseok's chest starts to feel a bit tighter. Each passing second is filled with anxiety. He asks himself: Why?

 Why is he so worried about a man he's never really met? What makes him special from the other's who have passed with the same condition. Those blank stares and those cold personas. He's witnessed them, yet never dealt with them. He lets out a sigh. 8:40 AM.

 Minseok passes the remaining time he had wandering his apartment complex, taking in the detail of every house plant he passes and every scattered piece of forgotten mail on the few untouched floors. He could only control his breathing when he was alone, like this. Observing. Settling.

 His phone finally vibrates in his back pocket when he's staring down a ladybug, and it scares him. He uses one hand to pull it out, the other still hanging by his side. Picking both arms up would have been too much effort right now.

 He glances at the phone that's been brought up to his face and sees the alarm he had set the day before. It's time to head out and hope that Baekhyun hasn't decided to cancel his plan of coming to this cafe every morning at opening. Deep breaths.

 

When he reaches the entrance of his twenty-something apartment complex, his palms press against the glass, leaving the first handprints of the day. Leaving his mark for others to follow. He walks. Concentrated.

The coffee shop is called Namusairo. It resides at 21 Sajik-ro 8-gil, Sajik-dong, Jongno-gu, Seoul, South Korea, and serves what Minseok likes to think is the best Americano you can get in the city. However, maybe he is a bit biased because he works there nearly day in and day out. It’s the only coffee he ever drinks. He doesn’t think it matters.

It takes him approximately fifteen minutes to walk to his destination, and he glances through the window covered in posters promoting some pastry deal. To his delight, and his demise, Baekhyun beautifully sat at a table in the corner with a cup of tea in front of him. It’s fresh—smoke still flowing from the rim of the cup. It’s time.

 

Minseok quietly enters the shop, the only people there being the workers, Baekhyun and himself. Baekhyun hears the bell of the door and lightly lifts his head from his book, immediately noticing the older man. He smiles, unsure if he should say anything.

 

“Baekhyun-ah,” he begins, stepping around the organized tables, “do you mind if I sit with you?”

 

“Me?” Baekhyun replies, raising an eyebrow. Minseok can understand his confusion: it’s not like the two were friends, and the only times they’ve talked before is when Minseok took his order for a medium hot hibiscus tea on the days that he worked. That was the only thing he really knew about Baekhyun. His love of tea.

 

“Yes, you.” Minseok softly smiles, pulling the chair out from the table and taking his seat. “I was thinking,” he sucked in air through his teeth, “I wanted to get to know you. I see you often, but we never talk.”

 

Minseok didn’t want to look Baekhyun in his eyes, but he had to. It was what he was here for, and inside those two chocolate brown eyes that he locked his with, there was nothing. It was empty. Hidden. Taking his time to investigate the irises and the pupils under his droopy eyelids did nothing. He was at a loss for words. There was really nothing there.

 

“Minseok?” Baekhyun asked in concern, waving his hand in front of his face. “Are you okay?”

 

He jolted. He was lost, literally in his eyes. “Ah, yes?” He replied. He let out a slight chuckle under his breath. _Play it cool_. “I’m sorry, I was thinking.”

 

“About my eyes?” Baekhyun smiled. “It seemed so.”

 

“Your eyes? Ah, no…” Minseok was now trying to hide his embarrassment. “Sometimes I space out, staring at people. I’m sorry.”

 

“No need to apologize.”

 

Minseok sincerely had no idea how he was going to start his relationship with Baekhyun. They had never had a full conversation, they never stayed in the same room together for more than a few minutes, and they knew nothing about each other. They were strangers, literal strangers, and they would’ve stayed that way if the little clocks in Baekhyun’s eyes weren’t absent.

This was going to be difficult. Hearing Baekhyun’s soft voice for more than just a few seconds was strange. Captivating. It sounded calming, sincere. He spoke with such elegance, and he sat over his cup of tea as if he was advertising it in a commercial.

  
_This was really going to be difficult_.


End file.
